


Equulei

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Brother-Sister Relationships, M/M, Parades, Pining, Pre-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: Isobel invited everyone.Isobel invited Alex.





	1. Isobel's Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you could do something malex with a reunion of some kind? Reunions are probably my favorite trope in the world. Lots of angst please!

Isobel invites everyone to her wedding.

“Wedding/calling card,” she says when Michael repeats the triple digit number, “everyone will see what a great event planner I am.”

It makes her happy so it can’t be so bad. Michael lives by the philosophy that his life is not his own anymore. He’s got one hand and a chunk of scrap metal and a half thought of way off the planet. He’s got nothing. The only thing he can do is make Isobel happy. So he puts on the suits she gives him and tamps down on any and all sarcastic remarks he wants to make or jabs at Max. He even sits there while someone at a hair salon makes his hair presentable.

Isobel asks Max to make a speech.

He gets it, he’s on the periphery and it’d be weird. He doesn’t want to make speeches anyway. He’s got no talent for public speaking anymore. People look at his hand and the words get all tangled up. He shrugs off Isobel’s hand in his one misstep and immediately feels bad when her face falls. He assures her it’s fine, he doesn’t care and he doesn’t even drink that much at the rehearsal dinner so they all can look presentable. Even though he’s not part of the family. He knows he’s not part of the family, he also knows they are trying not to rub it in. But it grates on him all the same. He puts it aside. He knows he’s Isobel’s brother and he beams when she makes her way towards the altar and sticks her tongue out at him under her veil. He looks out at the crowd in an effort not to laugh and ruin the photos. Isobel invited everyone.

Isobel invited Alex.

Their eyes catch and everything goes silent. Isobel invited Alex and Michael loses the ability to breathe. That can’t be Alex. His hair is close cropped and his skin is tan. It makes the scar on his forehead stand out. He’s dressed identically to his father and they sit in the exact same way. It’s not Alex, his mind protests. Alex who sits like he doesn’t want to be noticed on anyone else’s terms. Alex who is such a contract to his father. This man can’t be Alex. But when their eyes lock, it is. No one else has eyes like that. Michael thought his greatest issue was going to be not laughing. Now he doesn’t know if he can stay upright. Alex’s mouth parts and his eyes go from hopeful to ashamed to hard and he looks away. Michael can’t. Not until the priest pronounces them married and Noah dips Isobel and he pulls the string that holds the lid on a box of actual doves that fly above them in a single picture perfect truly horrifying moment.

Isobel doesn’t know. 

No-one knows, but Isobel especially doesn’t know. Michael wants nothing more to protect her but this is hard. Pictures go by in a blur and then it’s cocktail hour. He has to be with his family, or his not technically but still completely family—and yet the only thing he wants to do is find Alex. No, it’s not a want. Michael needs to find him. But every glance he has it’s two people in that uniform. His father and his brother or brothers. It doesn’t matter, Michael needs to get him alone. Alex seems determined not to let that happen. He’s never alone. He doesn’t even go to the bathroom as far as Michael can tell. He steadfastly ignores him except for a few times that Michael catches his eye and then Alex always looks away. It’s not until dinner, when Isobel’s father starts off the speeches that he sees Alex get up. Michael is determined not to ruin this, but he can’t help himself. He follows.

“Alex,” he says.

Alex stiffens at the sound of his name. Michael slips his hand behind his back as Alex turns around. He’s got more walls up than the last time Michael saw him. But then again why wouldn’t he? He’s in the Air Force now, his life depends on those walls. Michael wishes though that they didn’t apply to him as well. Alex squares his shoulders and jerks his head. Michael nods and Alex walks off. A moment later, Michael follows. He leaves enough distance that there’s a chance they won’t be associated with one another. It’s been years. Though Jesse Manes is back there so maybe it hasn’t been long enough. He follows Alex around several turns until they’re outside in the place where Isobel and Noah got married.

This close, Michael can see the facade’s cracks. Alex hides his misery really well, but it’s harder to hide with the glare of his father. Like he needs the heat of him to be strong. Michael’s heart seems to remember how to feel at that realization. Alex has never needed his father before. He looks at the altar and not at Michael. Michael can only see him in profile. He hasn’t heard Alex’s voice in years. He hasn’t been this close to him in years. Even with the cracks he sees in Alex and the questions he wants to ask about everything that’s happened, the most he wants to do is hear his voice.

“Alex,” he says his name again and Alex turns, finally focusing on him.

“Michael,” he says.

Something in Michael unravels at the sound of his voice and he crosses over to him immediately. Alex meets him part of the way and for the first time in years, Michael doesn’t need morphine to dull the pain. Alex smells different, cleaner somehow or maybe that’s just the kind of soap they use in the Air Force. Michael doesn’t care as he buries his face in Alex’s neck and holds onto him. Alex hangs on in return but he’s stiff for a moment, like he needs to be sure this is real. Michael lets him have it and just keeps holding him until Alex sags into him, all the tension bleeding out as his fingers grip the back of Michael’s suit. It feels so good. It feels like the past few years never happened. Like they could be at this wedding as each other’s dates instead of as strangers who the town forgot.

“God, Alex, I—“

Alex cuts him off by crushing their lips together. Michael is surprised, but only for a moment before he kisses him back. Kissing Alex tastes like home. It always has and Michael pushes into the kiss like he can swallow the feeling whole. Like maybe if they kiss for long enough, they’ll just be a part of one another and the world will have to deal with it. Alex has always been vocal and he’s unusually silent. Michael drags him closer and kisses him harder, but the noise that Alex makes isn’t a groan or a moan. He sobs. He sobs into the kiss and when Michael tries to pull back Alex holds him there and tries to kiss him even fiercer. Michael can’t keep doing it when the salt from Alex’s tears hits his lip and he pulls back, cupping Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex?”

“I’m deploying,” Alex says, “I’m going to Baghdad.”

“What?” Michael stares at him in horror.

“I know, I know,” Alex says, his voice desperate, “I shouldn’t be but—“

“Fuck that,” Michael cuts him off, not caring what Alex should or shouldn’t be as he kisses him again. He doesn’t care about his tears stopping him either. Alex is flying into war. Alex came to say goodbye. Alex kisses him back and pulls him close, “when?”

“Tomorrow.”

“No,” Michael presses his forehead to Alex and shakes his head, “no.”

“Yes,” Alex says and covers his maimed hand with his own. It hurts like a brand, “I have to go.”

“You don’t,” Michael pleads, hating the sob laugh Alex gives. That’s his Alex, the one they aren’t allowed to have, “you don’t have to go.”

“I do,” Alex says.

Now it’s Michael’s turn to almost sob. They’re standing at the place where his sister got married and Alex is saying I do, but it’s to leaving not to him. They shouldn’t be standing here embracing like this. They should be happy, Alex should be happy. Instead he’s clinging to Michael and they’re powerless to do anything to stop this. He can’t even go in there and attack Jesse. He can’t save Alex from this. He pulls back enough to look at Alex’s heartbroken face. If Alex isn’t here to be saved then what is he here for? Michael presses his lips together, still wet with Alex’s tears and searches his face.

“Why are you here?” He asks, pleads almost and true pain crosses Alex’s face.

“I wanted—I had to see you,” he says, like it’s some pained secret to admit, “if this is the last time—“

“No,” Michael cuts in, refusing to believe that’s even a possibility though he pulls Alex back into his space, “don’t say that.”

“But it might be,” Alex, ever practical whispers, “even if I come back I won’t be the same.”

“We’re never the same,” Michael reminds him roughly, “that doesn’t mean how I feel’s changed. Did it change for you?” Alex shakes his head, “you come back and we’ll figure everything out.”

“I could meet you somewhere,” Alex says, his voice soft and pained and hopeful, “somewhere new.”

Michael forces back the sob.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says.

Alex buries his face in his neck and Michael clings to him. He’s not, he’ll die in this place if he’s lucky. And if he’s very, very lucky then Alex won’t die halfway around the world. At the moment the only thing they can do is cling to each other and try to memorize this version of who they are. These people they are in this moment will also vanish. Lost to the same place that the kids they were are. But no matter who they become, Michael can’t imagine a world where he doesn’t feel Alex with every beat of his heart. Inside he can hear the faint notes of Isobel and Noah’s first dance. Pain laces through him and he pulls Alex back from the doors he knows they’re about to open and into the shadows of the trees that line the hotel.

He kisses him again, his lips and his cheeks, he kisses every part of him he can. Alex fists his hands in his lapels and ducks his head so he can capture his lips. Michael can hear people starting to come outside and he kisses Alex as hard as he possibly can. Like they can brand each other before he pulls back. They stare at each other in the moonlight and he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket and mops away Alex’s tears. He wishes he could heal like Michael so there would be no evidence, but he does the best he can. Alex closes his hand over the silk and holds his eyes for a long moment before kissing him one last time and pulling away. Michael stands there in horror, watching as Alex steps out and walks off.

The world has never seemed so cruel.

His hands shake as he gropes blindly for the flask and he pours the acetone down his throat. He brought several in case his hand acted up and he downs them all on an empty stomach with no chaser. Max finds him hours later passed out from acetone and Isobel spends years jabbing at him for almost ruining her wedding with his drug problem.

Most of the time, Michael’s just too high to care.


	2. Alex's Homecoming Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: @frenziedblaze prompted me: I’d love for you to write a snippet of Michael watching Alex’s homecoming parade from afar.

“So what’s up?” Michael asks as Isobel fiddles with the edge of her coffee cup, “party catastrophe? Need me to get my tools?”

There’s nothing mocking in his tone about it. Max’s job is ridiculous because Max is ridiculous. He’s an alien with superpowers and he spends his time picking up after the town drunk and getting cats off of trees and finding out who committed the latest petty theft. Isobel brings happiness to people, she makes the world beautiful. There’s nothing mocking about that. But there’s none of the excitement in her face. She looks kind of sad.

“Do you remember Alex Manes?” She asks, “the one from school? You two were friends right?”

Michael’s stomach plummets.

Asking if he remembers Alex Manes is a joke. Michael could forget his own name and he would remember Alex. He could forget everything and he would remember him. It’s been years since he’s seen him and Michael’s done everything he fucking can to keep the sense memory from fading even though he knows that he’s being ridiculous. Nothing feels ridiculous now as he gives a careful nod and braces himself. Mentally prays that he’s not about to hear the thing that he’s been terrified of hearing every second of every day for the past decade.

“Y-yeah,” he says, his voice only slightly skipping over the word, “what about him?”

“I got asked to plan a parade,” she says.

“Is he alive?!” She stares at the question, surprised at the tone in his voice, “sorry,” he says immediately,. “Just—is he—“

“He’s alive,” she says quickly, “were you two—“

“Not really,” he says.

Isobel gets it.

Isobel always has gotten it. How those secrets can make it impossible to forge relationships that matter. It’s easier to tell her that is the end of it, easier than saying that there was so much more to the story. They didn’t even get to the part where him being an alien destroys their trust. He looks at her pleadingly and she taps her fingers.

“He was injured,” she says, “he got the Purple Heart. He’s  _fine_ ,” she stresses, “but he’s lost the lower part of his leg.”

Her lips keep moving but there’s a weird ass roaring that’s taken over his ears. Alex is coming back, he’s getting honored like he fucking deserves to be, but he’s missing a leg. Alex is missing his leg. Alex who never wanted to fight has had his leg blown off in a desert far away. A piece of Alex is over there. Rotting. Alex is back but Alex is hurt. Isobel presses her lips together and he realizes she’s waiting for a response. He tries to get the roaring out of his ears but it just gets louder. It’s too loud.

She sighs when he pours the acetone down his throat.

Michael closes his eyes and waits for the pain to recede. The haze that pushes through him pulls the pain like a tide, out out out to sea where he doesn’t have to deal with it. One day he will. He knows that’s the day he drowns and dies. But it’s not today. Not this close to seeing Alex again. The acetone takes him lovingly back to shore and he looks at Isobel. She’s slightly annoyed and she can join the club.

“Okay, parade, Alex is missing a leg,” he cracks his knuckles, one of which makes a truly horrific sound, “what else?”

“Nothing,” Isobel says, “I just wanted to give you a heads up. I remember seeing you two in high school and I’m sure that Alex doesn’t want his friends looking at him any differently—“ she frowns, “Michael.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh.

But the idea of him and Alex being friends is completely laughable.

“Alex doesn’t care how I look at him,” he says.

“Okay,” she says slowly, “Are you sure you should be drinking that much?” She asks.

“Hand’s acting up,” he says.

It’s not a complete lie.

For the first time in a while he goes to the library for non spaceship related issues. He grabs every book on amputation he can get his hands on and devours them. Medical, Psychological, he reads about prosthetics and different types of complications and stretches. He reads until the librarian tells him it’s closing time. He dutifully puts all his books back, he knows the Dewey system like the back of his hand, and realizes how stupid he’s being. Alex doesn’t want to see him. More importantly, he knows Alex doesn’t want him to be aware of this. He’d have called otherwise right?

Michael drinks himself into oblivion.

Michael shows up at the parade and hides in the crowd and gets his first glimpse of Alex in years. For a guy who wanted to be a rockstar he seems completely embarrassed by the cheering crowds. Then again, maybe there’s a difference in his mind between being a hero and being a rockstar. Even in his haze of acetone Michael recognizes the world as fundamentally finding a point of balance. Because Alex has always always always deserved the recognition and adoration he was denied.

Michael weaves his way through the crowd, keeping pace with the laughably slow car as Alex waves and tries not to look embarrassed. When it pulls around the corner, Michael dives into the nearest shop that will give him a vantage point. There’s crowds everywhere because Alex is nice and Isobel is good at her job. So it’s easy to pretend to be interested in something on display while simultaneously being careful not to block it from customers and get a view of the car stopping. Alex ducks down and waves off the offer of help.

He takes out a crutch.

Isobel warned him and Michael heard her, but the sight of Alex precariously getting out of the car and leaning on the crutch makes Michael’s eyes flood. He hasn’t cried over Alex in years, he’s got no intention of doing it in public. Alex finds his balance but it’s shaky at best. The thing that gets him isn’t the fake ass smile on Alex’s face, it’s the moment when he turns away and pain echoes on his features. Hidden from everyone. It’s such a betrayal of everything he remembers from Alex who wore handcuff necklaces and lined his eyes as a fuck you to his homophobic dad. He can’t even show he’s in pain now. Everything in Michael twists and it aches to hold him. Everything is painfully aware that he doesn’t have that right.

“Tragic,” a woman next to him says, “for such a young man to be so hurt.”

“I think It’s brave,” he says.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she corrects quickly, “it’s sad as well.”

“There’s nothing sad about him,” he says, scrubbing under his eyes, “dude’s a badass.”


End file.
